


Dust to Dust

by Steadfxst



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Blow Jobs, Caretaking, Consent Issues, Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, Multi, Praise Kink, Sex Pollen, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steadfxst/pseuds/Steadfxst
Summary: “Yes, how to put this delicately. It’s a powerful aphrodisiac designed by Rittenhouse a few years back. Last time I heard about it, it was still a prototype. Obviously they’ve decided it’s ready for debut.”





	1. Denial

“What the hell…?” Wyatt says, voice trailing off as he observed the strange crimson powder that now coated his fingers.

Lucy wipes the stuff off on her voluminous skirt, sending a fresh cloud of it into the air around them.

“Don’t!” Flynn shouts. “Don’t disturb it any further!”

Wyatt and Lucy freeze, hands up in surrender.

“What the hell is this stuff?” Wyatt asks.

Flynn sighs.

“Yes, how to put this delicately. It’s a powerful aphrodisiac designed by Rittenhouse a few years back. Last time I heard about it, it was still a prototype. Obviously they’ve decided it’s ready for debut.”

“Aphrodisiac?” Lucy says.

“Rittenhouse having trouble getting laid?” Wyatt jokes.

“It was designed to torture prisoners, actually. Arouse them to the point of madness, to the point of begging for release, either from life itself or sexually.”

“Okay, so we're supposed to do what, exactly?” Lucy asks, trying not move while also trying not to panic.

“There’s only one antidote.”

“Jesus Christ,” Wyatt says. “Are you kidding me?”

“Sex,” Lucy says. “You mean sex.”

Flynn closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Not _just_ sex,” he says.

“Will you just _tell_ us already?” Wyatt demands. “I already feel like it’s a million degrees in here.”

There was no use dancing around it anymore.

“Semen,” Flynn says. “Released from a non-affected person into the body of an affected person.”

Wyatt and Lucy share a look between each other before looking back at Flynn, the only one of them who wasn’t affected.

“And if we _don’t_ do that?” Wyatt asks.

Flynn hesitates for a moment before answering the question:

“Then you will die.”


	2. The Explanation

With a new predicament to contend with in 1875, they decide they, first and foremost, need to find a hotel. And they need to do so as quickly as possible as time was of the essence. 

“My wife, her brother, and I need a room for the weekend,” Flynn says.

The hotel owner proposes an outrageous amount. (That was one thing that was a universal constant.) But Flynn didn’t come to play, and he hands over the amount in full.

“Right this way,” the man says, bewildered.

They shut and lock the door in his face.

* * *

“Look, changing history for personal and political gain? I get it. I don’t _agree_ with it,” Wyatt says, “But I _get_ it. Why the hell would Rittenhouse want to make something like this?”

Lucy chimes in before Flynn is forced to explain yet another hard truth.

“It’s a power fantasy. You put someone into a desperate position, and they’ll do anything to make it stop. It’s why they don’t waterboard people anymore; too many false confessions.”

“Torture,” Wyatt says.

“Rittenhouse calls it ‘enhanced interrogation,’” Flynn says.

“So did the CIA,” Lucy says.

They sit with that knowledge for a moment. It was a lot to take in. It now made sense why Rittenhouse would design such a drug. It would be so easy for them to travel through time, infecting people, driving them to the point of madness for information. Lucy shudders. 

“How long do we have before…Before it kicks in?” she asks.

Flynn shrugs.

“I don’t know the specifics of dosages or duration. All they told me is that it was something they’ve had in the works for years.”

“And you were just gonna go through history raping people to get them to tell you what you wanted to know?” Wyatt bites.

“Wyatt!”

A flash of hurt crosses Flynn’s eyes.

“I don’t need to rape someone to get what I want,” Flynn answers. “I think words and fists and guns are effective enough, don’t you, soldier boy?”

This stops Wyatt in his tracks. He swallows hard over his pride.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” Flynn deflects. “It’s not like I enjoy being in this situation any more than you do.”

Wyatt tugs at his collar and starts pacing.

“I already feel like my skin is on fire.”

Lucy scratches the back of her neck.

“Now that you mention it…”

“Wonderful,” Flynn sighs.

“Flynn, maybe there’s another way.”

He laughs at her expression. Lucy was too good for this world sometimes. How could anyone do X? How could someone dream up Y? They’d been fighting Rittenhouse—in some form or fashion—for a few years now, and still she could not imagine the depth of their cruelty.

“If there is, I don’t know it. Or have it.”

“So does it have to be penetrative, or…?”

“Don’t make me answer that, Logan.”

Wyatt’s face goes nearly as red as the powder. Lucy is suddenly fascinated with the floor rug.

“Oh, come on, guys” Flynn jokes. “Consider it a team bonding exercise. I guarantee we’ll never be closer.”


	3. Negotiations

“So we’re doing this. We’re actually doing this,” Lucy says.

Flynn isn’t sure whom she’s trying to convince more: herself, Wyatt, or Flynn.

Sweat has formed on her brow, and her cheeks have been flushed since they got to the hotel room. By now, Lucy and Wyatt have both given up on worrying about their modesty and stripped down to their period-appropriate undergarments. Flynn was still fully dressed, nonchalantly sitting in the chair at the writing desk while Lucy paced the room. He breaks the silence:

“Logan, time isn’t on our side here, so I’m going to ask you some rather blunt personal questions.”

Wyatt looks up from the floor to face Flynn. He’d been sitting in the same spot for almost ten minutes, visibly uncomfortable. His hands were clenched on his knees as he tried not to touch his growing erection.

“Shoot,” Wyatt says.

“Have you ever been on the receiving end of anal sex before? In any capacity?”

Lucy gasps in a way that sounds more aroused than shocked, but Flynn supposes it could be both.

“Jesus,” he breathes.

Flynn soldiers on.

“Because I don’t think _this_ should be your introduction to it, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

Wyatt actually gulps.

“What’s the alternative?”

Flynn gives him a look.

“Don’t be deliberately dense.”

Either the drugs were already messing with his brain or Wyatt had still not yet come to realize the reality they were stuck in. Then, Wyatt nods.

“Right, right.”

He nervously runs his hand through his sweaty hair. Flynn sees his toes curl into the fibers of the rug.

“Don’t make me ask you the question again,” Flynn says.

Even Flynn feels his face heat a bit. Perhaps it was a contact high. He didn’t have the powder touch any part of him, but he’d been locked in the room with them for twenty minutes, so maybe the proximity was getting to him. Or maybe it was because this whole situation was ridiculous. Maybe it was all of the above.

“N-no,” Wyatt says. “I mean, sometimes Jess would—”

Wyatt holds up a finger, and Flynn stops him, puts both his hands up.

“Okay, okay. We get the idea. Thank you for sharing with the class.”

“Be nice, Flynn.”

He sees Lucy smile in spite of herself.

“And you, missy,” he says, and she stops pacing and looks at him.

“I’d think that would be rather obvious,” she says with more bravery than she feels.

“I’m trying to be diplomatic here,” he says. “Which is not exactly my forte. I’m asking if there’s any surprises I should know about.”

She cocks an eyebrow.

“Surprises?”

Flynn sighs deeply.

“Yes, any physical or medical limitations I should know about. Any ‘shalt nots’ I should be aware of? For either of you?” He looks back and forth between the two of them, waiting for an answer. “You realize I’m going in completely blind here. If you’ll forgive the pun.”

“No pet names,” Wyatt says. “Or kissing.”

As if he wanted to call Logan “sweetie pie” and stick his tongue down his throat…

“Don’t pin me,” Lucy says. “Claustrophobia. I don’t like being trapped.”

“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere. I assume you’re both clean?”

He gets two emphatic yeses.

“As am I. And Lucy, that just leaves me with one more concern. Well, I have many about all of this, but only one pressing one.”

“Don’t worry. I’m—I’m on the pill.”

“Good,” he says. He looks first at Wyatt and then at Lucy. “Are we all in agreement that delaying any further at this point will only serve to prolong the inevitable?"

Solemnly, they nod.


	4. First

“Who’s going first?” Flynn asks, rolling up his sleeves.

There was no need to entirely disrobe, he reasons. He could be clinical about this. At least with Wyatt, who looked simultaneously eager and repulsed at the idea of giving his first—Flynn had no idea; he was merely making an educated guess—blowjob. With Wyatt, he could convince himself that this was no more intimate than a handshake. They didn’t even have to look at each other.

Lucy though. Lucy was going to be harder to keep a mental and emotional distance from. He wonders how she will request they do it. Face-to-face would be almost overwhelmingly intimate. On the other hand, taking her from behind sounded far too callous. Of course, he’d let her decide. It was _she_ who was going to deal with the trauma of all this, after all, not he, and he wanted this to be as painless as possible.

“I—I’ll go,” Wyatt says.

“Are you sure?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve been on the receiving end. I know how this works.”

 _Christ_ , Flynn thinks, _I’m about to get the worst blowjob of my life, and it’s all to save his._

Wyatt drops to knees. He’s completely naked, which Flynn said wasn’t necessary, but Wyatt told him to shut the fuck up because he was going to die of heat exhaustion before they could follow through with his plan.

“Two things,” Flynn says, holding up two fingers. “One, put something under your knees. You’ll thank me later. Two, do you remember the safe word?”

“Lifeboat,” they say simultaneously.

“Good,” he says.

Lucy hands Wyatt a pillow from the bed. He mutters a thanks before slipping it under his knees. Wyatt looks up at him then, and his eyes shine with fever. His hands rest on Flynn’s knees, and he can feel the heat of his skin like a brand.

“I’m ready,” he says.

<i>Well, that makes one of us,</i> Flynn thinks.

Flynn makes quick work of removing his boxers. There was no point in being shy or worrying about modesty. Wyatt licks his lips. Yes, the drug certainly had him by the scruff of the neck now; this Wyatt was very different from the Wyatt of half an hour ago. This Wyatt was eager, and his cock was hard, pointing towards his stomach.

Flynn was...mildly aroused. He was hard enough to fulfill the needs of his new teammates. Seeing Wyatt open his mouth when Flynn took his cock in his hand helped. He wasn’t going to think too hard about who he was getting it from. Not right now, at least. Worrying about consent and sexuality crises were an activites for later.

Wyatt wraps his lips around the head, and Flynn loses his train of thought. It had been so long since anyone had done this for him. As Wyatt began inexpertly bobbing and sucking, he has the absurd thought that he wasn’t going to last very long. He laughs to himself and curls the fingers of his free hand against Wyatt’s skull. Flynn glances down and catches Wyatt taking himself in hand.

“Watch your teeth,” Flynn hisses.

Wyatt pulls off to breathe. His right hand never stops.

“Sorry,” he pants. “I’ve never—I just want—”

“You’re doing fine,” Flynn says. “It’s good.”

Flynn rubs his thumb over Wyatt’s swollen, shiny bottom lip, and Wyatt sucks it into his mouth. Flynn pulls his hand back.

“Save it,” Flynn says.

Wyatt resumes sucking.

Flynn is finally allowing himself enjoy it when he hears a whimper from the bed. He opens his eyes, unaware he had even closed them. It was Lucy. She watches her watch him, and he can see in her face when she realizes she’s been caught. Flynn gives her a smug grin. She watches him force Wyatt a little deeper, causing Flynn to inhale harshly and bite his lip.

 

“You could be a little gentler with him,” Lucy says.

“Gentle doesn’t get me off,” Flynn answers honestly. Wyatt gags, but doesn’t give any show any sign that he wants to use the safe word. “He’s too far gone to care anyway.”

Wyatt’s hand is a blur on his own cock.

“Flynn.”

Shit. He realizes how that sounded. Now she thought he was going to be rough with her. _Too_ rough with her.

“For you, Lucy, I can be as gentle as a summer breeze.”

This seems to please her because he watches her squeeze her thighs together and mewl. It makes something warm in his stomach unfurl. Better warn Wyatt.

“I’m close,” Flynn says.

Wyatt moans and tears leak from his eyes as he takes him as far as he can stand.

“Fuck!” Flynn grunts, long and drawn out.

He feels himself come into Wyatt’s open mouth, feels him swallow, just as he’d been told to do. Flynn resists telling him that he took his medicine like a champ. Some white trails out of the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“You did well,” Flynn says, stroking the side of Wyatt’s face.

He could do gentle. He wanted prove to Lucy that he could do it.

Wyatt’s eyes widen in disbelief, and Flynn watches him break apart. He comes a copious amount that Flynn attributes to the drug heighten everything to the nth degree. _That_ was going to be hell to clean out of the pillow sham and rug.

They watch him lie on his back on the floor, totally naked, strung out, covered in his own sweat and mess. He looked like he'd just come from an orgy.

“Is he going to be okay?” Lucy asks.

“We’ll know soon enough. If the effects don’t wear off, I can always try again with him.”

He tries to make eye contact with Lucy, but for once, she is too ashamed to.

“Lucy?”

“How are you so calm about all this?” she asks, finally looking up.

Her eyes are shining, just like Wyatt’s, but there are tears there too. Flynn pulls up his boxers, stands, and sits beside her on the bed.

“Because I have to be,” he says. “I can freak out after I know you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m scared,” she says.

Flynn opens his arms, and she embraces him, awkwardness be damned.

“I won’t hurt you, Lucy,” Flynn murmurs into her long waves. “I want this to be as easy for you as possible.”

She hiccups in his arms. He reaches up a hand to run through her layers. They had some time to kill before he’d be able to go again, and he is more than content to pet and reassure her until they were both ready.


	5. Agony

“Lucy?” Flynn murmurs.

She’s breathing heavily in his arms, and he knows she needs to, for want of a better term, be seen to.

“I’m fine,” she says forcefully to be true.

Clearly, she is hurting. And clearly the drug was effective. Wyatt had finally dragged himself up off the floor to collapse onto the other bed in the room. He hadn't moved.

“Thanks,” he’d said, voice ragged from his throat being used.

After Wyatt had passed out, he’d held Lucy a little tighter in his arms…

“Are you ready?” he asks.

He tucks an errant lock of her hair off her sweaty brow, and Lucy nods her head. Flynn would take care of her; he sincerely hoped she knew that. He smiles at her in a way he hopes she finds reassuring.

Lucy gives him a weak smile in return. She sits up and strips out of her underclothes. Flynn tries not to ogle, but he’d be a liar if he said she wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful. He nervously clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” Lucy says. “You’re supposed to be turned on right now. My life is kind of depending on the fact that you find me attractive.”

It’s gallows humor, and he appreciates it. He picks up her hand and kisses it.

“Please, Flynn?” she whispers.

He can see in her eyes that the drug was causing her physical pain, and that just simply would not do. Lucy lies back on the bed, and he climbs in between her legs. He props himself up over her on his elbows and gasps when his cock rubs against her stomach.

“Is this—Is this alright?” he asks.

“Alright,” she answers. It's the closest to consent that he will be able to get to in this situation, but it’s better than nothing. He wouldn’t touch a single hair on her head without her permission.

Flynn smiles sadly at her and shakes his head. Neither she nor Wyatt wanted this, but Flynn knows he must do it or else she would cease to exist. And a world without Lucy Preston was not a world he wanted to be a part of.

Flynn looks down at her already spread thighs. He can tell that she is wet to her core just from looking at her. Her level of self-control was astonishing; a lesser person might have already climbed into his lap and demanded things from him (or of Wyatt now that he was “cured”). All the more reason he wishes he didn’t have to do this under duress.

He focuses only on making her feel good. He ignores all the physical sensations he is feeling and all the emotions he has about her. He thinks about how much Lucy is trusting him and how he can help her. Luckily, this is enough to help him do what needed to be done. 

He presses his cock against her and enters her smoothly, and she lets out a high-pitched whine when he finally bottoms out. He knows he's not porn-sized large, so he assumes her reaction is a result of the powder. His thoughts snap him out of his haze of sensation.

“Are you okay?” he asks with a grunt. She clenches down, writhing.

“Oh, please more,  _more_. Flynn,  _please_!” Lucy begs.

She doesn’t sound anything like the Lucy of yesterday. She sounds like a wild, hurt animal, and hatred bubbles in his chest at the thought of what Rittenhouse had planned for her. He starts moving a little faster and remembers to bring a hand down to her center to rub her, trying hard to get her to come before him.

It feels so wrong to touch her this way, to know where she likes to be touched and how. If anything was ever going to happen between them, he never would have wanted it to be like _this_. She isn’t supposed to be gripping the sides of the bed in pain, with white knuckles, and he isn’t supposed to be bracing himself on a hand by her head or a hand on her bare hip. He hates that she feels so good. 

Lucy suddenly lets out a hysterical laugh, and Flynn is noticeably startled, despite the fact that he never ceases his thrusts that get all the way inside her every time. His eyes search hers for answers, and Lucy reaches up to cup his face and bring him down for a kiss.

“Lucy, I never wanted—”

“It's okay,” she breathes, as though she had been reading his thoughts the whole time. “I know.”

They share a look, and he can tell she feels bad for him. He both hates and appreciates the sentiment.

“You deserve better than this. You know that, don’t you?”

He says this to her balls deep in cunt, and she laughs out loud again. Maybe it’s the poison surging through her blood or maybe she's laughing at the absurdity of all this or maybe she really _does_ agree with him, but either way she nods her head.

His fingers and cock work in tandem to finally bring her to that edge of bliss, which causes her to sigh and moan all the way up to her climax. Her noises echo off the walls, and her muscles clench down on him in a vicious vice. He slows down his motions over her, and Lucy watches him close his eyes tightly, and she suddenly feels his come rush inside of her. Flynn comes almost silently, mouth dropping open. She wraps her arms around his neck to hold him close.

Flynn opens his eyes and gently, carefully pulls away. He’s panting and swallows hard before saying:

"You—you should be alright now.”

She smiles weakly and puts a hand to his face for a moment, obviously exhausted by…Well, all of it.

They are otherwise quiet while cleaning themselves and redressing. Flynn hears her breathing go back to normal and hopes that her aching need is gone. He tries to think of exactly what the hell she's supposed to say to her now that they’ve—.

“I’m sorry,” Flynn blurts. “This never should have happened to you. None of this.”

She doesn't say anything. Just looks at him with exhaustion written all over her lovely face.

Now he realizes he’s talking about more than just the drug…And that isn’t fair to her. She needed to rest. Hell, _he_  needed to rest.

“Wake me if you need anything...or if the sensations come back.”

Flynn lies down on the little couch in the corner and tries to sleep.


	6. Aftermath

Flynn isn’t sure how long he sleeps, but it doesn’t feel like very long. Or at the very least, he doesn’t feel well-rested. Cramming his long limbs onto the too-small couch isn’t an experience he’d like to recreate. He sits up with a groan and surveys the two beds. Lucy is still fast asleep, which is an improvement. Wyatt is awake. Flynn is relieved that he is clothed.

“Hey,” Wyatt says. He gives a sheepish wave. His cheeks are pink, and he can’t seem to maintain eye contact. “So…”

“We don’t, um, have to discuss, well _anything_ , if you don’t want to,” Flynn says.

“Don’t you think we should? I don’t—I mean, think of it this way. Agent Christopher and Mason are gonna need to know about some new drug that Rittenhouse has created.”

Flynn grimaces. So focused was he on saving their lives that he hadn’t even thought of that.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“So what do you know for sure?” Wyatt asks.

“That you give mediocre blowjobs.”

Wyatt’s cheeks shift from pink to red in a matter of seconds.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Wyatt takes a deep breath. Just because Logan had blown him didn’t mean they were suddenly best friends. And he was so easy to antagonize that it would be a shame to stop now that he was so committed.

“Are you done now?” Wyatt asks.

Flynn ignores this question in favor of answering his first.

“We know what the drug does, but not what’s it’s made of. We know how to nullify the effects, but we don’t know how it works. We also don’t know the long-term effects or if it’s been used on one of their missions before.”

“Wow, we really don’t know much.”

“Speak for yourself,” Flynn counters.

“Do you two ever stop bickering?” comes Lucy’s soft voice.

They stop arguing and face her. Slowly, she sits up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest.

“How are you feeling?” Flynn asks her.

“You didn’t ask how _I_ was feeling,” Wyatt says.

“How do you feel, Wyatt?”

“ _Lousy_ ,” he answers.

Flynn rolls his eyes, and he catches Lucy grinning.

“For the record,” she says. “I feel fine. Maybe a little sore.”

“Where?” he asks, standing, ready to run to her side.

She laughs at his over-concerned look.

“Everywhere I’m supposed to,” she says. “I can handle it. I’m fine!”

“Are you two done now?” Wyatt grouses.

For a brief moment, he’d actually forgotten that Wyatt was still in the room with them. 

“Wyatt brought up a good point earlier,” she says. “We need to tell Agent Christopher about this.”

“Do you both feel well enough to travel back home?” Flynn asks.

“Yes,” Wyatt answers.

“Maybe I should put my clothes back on first,” Lucy says.

Flynn can’t help but agree.


	7. Aftershocks I

Recounting their brush with the Rittenhouse roofie with Agent Christopher and Connor Mason was…an experience.

“You’re kidding,” Christopher said in disbelief once he finished.

“You have no idea how much I wish I were,” Flynn replied.

Connor and Denise looked at each other before looking back at Flynn.

“And are there any…lasting side effects?” Connor asked.

“That is completely unknown to me at this time, but I believe we should be prepared for the worst.”

* * *

The aftershocks arrive at just shy of the twenty-four hour mark of exposure. One minute, he and Lucy and Rufus are eating dinner at the table, and then next, Lucy is gasping sharply, dropping her fork, and clutching her middle.

“Oh god,” she whimpers.

Flynn stands abruptly.

“Ummm, is this the thing Christopher warned us about? The thing you three refused to talk about back on the Lifeboat? Because I—”

“ _Flynn_.”

“Yeah, I’m out of here.”

Rufus stands and rushes out of the room. That was some Rittenhouse nonsense that he wanted no part of.

Flynn goes to Lucy’s side of the table.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Where does it hurt?”

He puts a hand on her shoulder, and she presses into the touch like a cat.

“God, it’s happening again. It—it’s the same thing from before.”

Flynn looks at her seriously.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he says.

Because he needs to hear it from her. This is not an attempt to humiliate her. (Not at all.) He needs her to have as much control over this as is possible.

“I need you to—” She licks her lips, takes a deep breath. “I need you to help me.”

Lucy makes unwavering eye contact.

“Okay, Lucy.”

* * *

On their way to Flynn’s room, they run into Agent Christopher, who is walking towards them. She stops in her tracks, eyes wide.

“What’s going—?”

“Aftershocks,” he says, holding Lucy close to him.

For some reason he feels especially protective of her, knowing she was in such a vulnerable state. Of course, no one here would intentionally hurt her, but years of dealing with Rittenhouse members had made him distrustful.

“We need to do tests. We have to monitor her recovery in comparison to Wyatt’s.”

“I appreciate that you’d like to be in the audience. I’m flattered, really. But—”

“ _But_ ,” Lucy interrupts, “we promise to give you a full report.”

Flynn holds his tongue and nods in agreement.

“Very well,” Christopher says, eyeing Flynn warily as he shut the door behind him.

Lucy lies down on his bed and stretches out.

“At least there are fewer layers to peel off this time,” Lucy says, trying to lighten the mood.

Flynn gives a noncommittal response. He cards a hand through his hair. He barely resists the urge to pace. Lucy frowns.

“Are _you_ okay?” she asks.

“Of course. I wasn’t the one who was dosed.”

“Then why are you acting differently now than you did in 1875? You don’t have to fuck me, Flynn.”

How was she this calm, this _casual_ , even as she twitched helplessly on his bed as arousal coursed through her. He feels like he’s going out of his mind.

“I want you to be with the person you most trust and prefer, but I don’t think it wise for Wyatt to do this because he was infected and might experience his own bout of aftershocks. After all, the drug affected him far more than it affected you. I could be wrong, but it seems weaker now than it did before.”

Lucy frowns and holds her stomach through a sudden burst of heat. She lets out a long stuttering sigh.

“This has nothing to do with you versus Wyatt,” she says. “This has to do with the fact that I trust you. I trust your judgement and information on this, and I trust that you mean what you say about the antidote. And I trust that you are doing this to help me because you care about me. And Wyatt for that matter. Please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”

He sits beside her on the bed.

“Not wrong at all,” he says. "I want you to be safe. And healthy again."

“Good,” Lucy says. She gives him a small smile. “That’s what I thought. We can worry about relationship dynamics later, okay? We can talk about that; I’m open to it. But for now, I just want this out of my system.”

He nods, leans in to kiss her. She obliges.


	8. Aftershocks II

There are a few quiet moments where they simply lie there. The sound of their breathing is the only noise that fills the air. Lucy subconsciously pulls his bedsheet a little more firmly against her.

“How long are we going to have to do this?” she asks, eyes still fixed on the bunker’s ceiling.

The pang in his chest is almost more than he can bear, but he doesn’t fault her for asking. How long was the drug designed to last? Would it continue to affect her indefinitely? What about Wyatt? Would he suddenly need another round too?

“I’m so sorry, Lucy. I wish—”

“Please don’t,” she says. “Please don’t turn this into a pity thing where you torture yourself for taking advantage of the poor drugged girl, okay? That’s not what this is.”

Flynn opens his mouth to protest that that is _exactly_ what this is, but he stops when she turns onto her side and props her head up on her fist.

“That’s not what this is because I’m _deciding_ that that’s not what this is. I’m not going to give them that kind of control over me. They chose to hurt me, to hurt _us_. I am choosing to not get hurt. I’m choosing you to help me.”

Flynn was not expecting that. To hear that from her was more than he deserved. He’d felt like a monster these past two days, preying on a young woman who was completely at his mercy. If this was how she felt, then she deserved to know the whole truth.

“I have to tell you something, Lucy.”

Her brow furrows a bit.

“What is it?”

There’s a loud series of knocks on the door.

“The mothership jumped,” Christopher says through the door. “Are either of you in any condition to travel?”

“Yes!” Lucy calls. “Just a minute.”

She sits up and swings her legs off the bed. It is odd to see her not care a bit about her nakedness as she went about the room grabbing her clothes and pulling them back on again. Lucy pulls a hair tie from her pocket and pulls her long brown hair into a loose pony tail. She looked so soft and endearing, and Flynn feels his heart swell.

“What are you waiting for? We have to go!”

Flynn grins.


	9. Aftershocks III

There’s a tentative knock on her door.

“I’m fine, Flynn. Really. If I need—”

“It’s me,” Wyatt says.

Oh.

Lucy puts her book down and gets up from her bed. She grabs her sleep pants off the floor and dons them. She opens the door.

“Hey,” she says with a small smile. “How are you?”

“Can I come in?” he asks.

Lucy’s brows furrow.

“Yeah, of course.”

She steps aside, and he enters. She watches him nervously run his fingers through his hair. His hair is sweaty. And he looks flushed.

“Wyatt, are you—?”

“I think, um. I think it’s happening again,” he interrupts.

Lucy nods in sympathy.

“I can go get Flynn if you want.”

Wyatt shakes his head.

“I don’t want Flynn.”

“Wyatt.”

“I want _you_ , Lucy.”

With trembling hands, he reaches out to her, and she embraces him. She holds her head to his shoulder and runs a soothing hand—she hopes—up and down his back.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay,” she says, rocking him gently. “It’s okay.”

“This is the furthest thing from ‘okay,’” he says. “I don’t—Fuck.”

She pulls away, slightly, sighs.

“Wyatt, let me go talk to Flynn. Let me—Let me go talk to him, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Lucy…”

“Do you trust me, Wyatt?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

Before she leaves, she watches him sit on her bed and rubs his hands on his thighs in a nervous gesture she recognizes from their brief time at the hotel.

* * *

There’s an urgent knock at his door, and Flynn is quick to open it. Lucy’s worried face stares up at him.

“Are you alright? Do you—?”

“No,” she says. “But Wyatt does.”

Flynn licks his lips.

“Oh? And he sent you to go fetch me?”

Lucy shakes her head in annoyance.

“Don’t do that. This isn’t easy for any of us and making snide remarks doesn’t help anyone. He needs your help, but he doesn’t want your help.”

Flynn huffs.

“Well, I can’t _make_ him, Lucy.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I have a rather unorthodox solution.”

“Please. I am all ears,” he says.

She takes a deep breath.

“Wyatt and I, well, I thought we had something once, and we slept together. He told me he wanted me, tonight.”

Well then...

“I see.”

“I wouldn’t object if you wouldn’t object,” she says with more bravery than she feels.

Her chin juts upward, almost daring him to challenge or tease her. He isn’t exactly thrilled about the situation, and he doesn’t blame Wyatt’s apprehension, but he has no inclination to fight with her.

“Lead the way,” he says, arm outstretched.

* * *

Wyatt’s head snaps up when Lucy opens the door. He looks keyed up, but calm, until Flynn walks in.

“I said I didn’t—” he starts, making as if to stand.

Before Flynn can try to reason with him, explain that he doesn’t want this either, that he gets no real enjoyment from forcing his new teammates into such situations, Lucy kisses him. He watches her collide into him, preventing him from getting up. She kisses him with abandon, as though Flynn wasn’t even there. Flynn has the presence of mind to shut the door behind them as he watches her climb into his lap and push him back on the bed. He moans into her mouth, and something like jealous unfurls in Flynn’s stomach.

Lucy, from above him, pulls away just enough to talk to him, but Wyatt’s mouth searches her out, latching onto her neck and collarbone when he finds her mouth to be too far away.

“Wyatt, you have to listen to me. You have to let Flynn help you.”

“No.”

He grips her hips in his hands and rocks up against her. Flynn clenches his hands into fists.

“Wyatt, you’ll die. Please,” she begs, kissing him with little pecks across his lips and cheeks and chin. “Do it for me. Let him help you.”

Wyatt grunts—with frustration? Lust? Annoyance?—and licks his lips. Flynn watches his eyes try to focus on her and what she was saying.

“I’m not going to lose you just because you’re stubborn.”

“Luce,” he whimpers.

Flynn knows he’s supposed to be hard for this in order to provide the kind of “help” Lucy was talking about, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been less aroused than right now. Whatever anyone else at Rittenhouse ever did, he had had only willing partners. He needed to try, like Lucy was doing, to make him more comfortable, to help him feel safer. He sits on the edge of the bed, next to the pair of them. Wyatt’s eyes flick over to him as he feels the bed shift.

“Wyatt, Lucy has an idea that might help.”

His bright blue eyes move back to her.

“You can fuck me while Flynn fucks you.”

Flynn blinks. He had been expecting her to deliver the idea in a perhaps more delicate way. No matter. Bluntness was for the best; it left little room for misunderstandings, of which they did not need more.

Wyatt swallows, and his hands run up Lucy’s thighs and under her sleep shirt to her waist.

“You’d do that for me?” he asks. “I don’t want—”

Lucy kisses him again.

“No more of that. We’re a team. We’re here to help each other. Rittenhouse wants this to torture us, tear us apart. But I’m not going to let that happen. This can be good,” she says. “We can make you feel good.”

Her words were rather sweet. Where Flynn had been trying to remain clinical, Lucy, of course, found the heart and soul of the seemingly unsolvable problem. 

“Right, Flynn?” she adds.

Flynn finds himself nodding.

“Of course,” he agrees.

It’s the right thing to do, especially if it’s what Lucy wants to do and if it will make things easier on Wyatt. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a chore to watch them kiss and sigh into each other mouths, even if he wishes he could have Lucy all to himself.

“Then that’s settled,” Lucy says.

* * *

It’s…awkward. At the beginning.

As he had said before, a “fuck or die” scenario wasn’t ideal for experimenting sexually, but there was no place for “what ifs” or “should haves” now.

“I’m going to—”

“Just—”

And then he was inside of him. Flynn bites his lip and pulls Wyatt’s hips slowly, gently, back towards him. Doing so pulls Wyatt from Lucy, who inhales sharply at the drag of Wyatt’s cock inside of her. Flynn watches her face, looking for any signs of discomfort, but finds none.

“The safeword?” Flynn husks.

“Lifeboat,” Lucy says.

“Wyatt?” he asks. Wyatt shakes his head, arm shaking as he props himself up over Lucy, trying to remember…well anything. “Wyatt.”

“Lifeboat,” he whispers.

Flynn moves again, and Wyatt swears.

This was very different from their time at the hotel. The hotel had felt like a wild fever dream. The powder was fresh, tensions were high, and ambitions were low. Now, though. Now, everything was a hot simmer. Like banked coals. Like…

“Fuck,” Flynn moans.

Like fucking into your former archrival while he fucks his former girlfriend. Partner. Best friend? Flynn isn’t sure. Lucy had said something about talking about relationships, and he thinks they need to have that conversation sooner rather than later if things like this are going to keep happening.

“I’m—I’m close,” Wyatt says. “I’m so sorry.”

Lucy smiles up at him, with forgiveness and understanding in her eyes. She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

She smiles brittlely, and Wyatt tucks his face into the place where her neck meets her shoulder. Lucy’s arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, and Wyatt picks up the pace, causing him to impale himself further on Flynn’s dick. 

Flynn almost feels like he’s invading a private moment between them.

“Flynn?” she says.

“Lucy?”

She smiles, softly. It was though she could read his mind. Something warm bursts through him at the sight. Flynn grunts, biting his lower lip.

“Oh fuck,” Wyatt says. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, _oh!_ ”

Wyatt’s body clenches around him like a vice, and Flynn doesn’t try to hold back. (What would be the point in doing so if semen was the only antidote?) He watches Lucy react to Wyatt’s orgasm as he experiences his. Kissing the side of his face, mouth working as she whispered something to him. He wasn’t sure what; he was too far gone.

After a moment, Flynn pulls out and away. Wyatt is a mess on top of her, and he gently rolls his body off of her, knowing he was probably too fucked out or fucked up to have the presence of mind to move himself. 

This puts Lucy in the middle.

He lies down next to her and feels her eyes watching him.

“Did you…?” he asks.

“No,” she says. “I. It’s fine.”

“Do you want…?”

“It’s pretty late,” she says. “And we, the three of us, still need to talk, I think, before we…do that.”

Flynn nods.

“Of course,” he says. “Whatever you want.”

She smiles at hi,m and then she leans over to kiss him on the mouth before climbing off the bed.

“Not that I’m not tempted,” she admits, redressing in front of him yet again.

“Oh?”

He gives her a playful smirk.

It was a start.


End file.
